


Children of the Night

by HeartsInJeopardy



Category: Castlevania (Cartoon), 悪魔城ドラキュラ | Castlevania Series
Genre: Angst, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-22
Updated: 2018-11-22
Packaged: 2019-08-27 18:48:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16708033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeartsInJeopardy/pseuds/HeartsInJeopardy
Summary: Pleasure was not something Isaac sought out. Not in the paintings of Dracula’s gallery, his vampire courtesans, or even the small comforts of fine clothes and food the castle offered.But none of these had tempted him the way Hector did.





	Children of the Night

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, like so many other fans I fell in love with this couple throughout the new season of Castlevania and had to write about them. And, of course, it turned out smutty and self-indulgent. I hope you enjoy! Also, I love getting comments – both good and bad – so please share your thoughts below.

He was beautiful, there was no denying that, with fair skin, bright blue eyes, and a graceful way of carrying his lithe body.

The vampires who had watched his arrival at Dracula’s court whispered that he was _adorable_ or _quaint_. But from his vantage point in the library’s upper floor, Isaac only saw the man below him as an inconvenience.

He had been watching Hector walk the long rows of dusty books for minutes now, and was sure the other man was completely unaware of his presence. It was cause for concern, because in Dracula’s castle a man needed to keep his ears sharp.

As the only other human in the court, Isaac knew any mistake or slight Hector made would reflect just a poorly on him. So far, it seemed he would need to look out for the new forgemaster, but there was still much to learn about him.

Stepping down the library’s spiral staircase, he took care to let his footsteps be heard. Hector looked up from the book he held in surprise – and fear, Isaac thought – before recognizing the man before him.

“Our Lord Dracula told me to expect you, Hector,” Isaac said in the most welcoming voice he could muster.

“And your reputation precedes you, Isaac. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you in person.” They clasped hands, briefly, and Isaac noted the other man’s grip was surprisingly firm.

“I see you headed straight for the castle’s library.” He smiled. “I don’t blame you, it’s an awe-inspiring collection.”

“It is. But I didn’t expect to have it all to myself.” Hector gestured at the vast, empty room with a sweep of his arm.

Isaac shrugged his shoulders. “These days, Dracula’s guests have their noses in maps and reports, not books.”

“They must know enough to fill entire shelves anyway,” Hector said, replacing his book. Isaac had to stifle a laugh.

“I must admit some are less interested in the pursuit of knowledge than, say, you and I.”

“Well, I suppose we can only guess at the passions that move our lord’s guests.”

This time, a full, hearty laugh escaped from Isaac’s throat. “Wait and see,” he said. “You will learn quickly.”

Hector cocked and eyebrow at the answer, and Isaac saw his cheeks flush before he turned away, pretending to browse the shelf before him. He must be shy, he thought.

“And what occupies you,” Hector asked, turning his deep blue eyes back to Isaac, “aside from books and our master’s bidding?”

Or maybe, Isaac thought, he’s bolder than I guessed.

“Come,” he said, gesturing towards the door, “I’ll show you.”

***

Hector peppered Isaac with questions about the castle, with a new one for each of the dozens of rooms they passed through. So Isaac welcomed his guest’s stunned silence, when they finally arrived at his workshop, deep in the castle’s bowels.

Hector leaned as far as he dared over the edge of a metal catwalk, a draft from below sweeping his silvery hair back. He took in the huge foundries, lifts, and engines spread over several levels of the cavernous space.

But the room’s latest addition caught Isaac’s eye: someone had dragged the corpse of a bat-like creature onto his workplace’s main slab, leaving a trail of dark, dried ichor from the entrance.

He checked the monster’s injuries with practiced care, pulling away a shredded flap of skin to peer at the damaged organs beneath. _Salvageable_ , he decided, but there was a guest to attend to first.

He uncorked a dusty bottle resting among his tools, then poured out two glasses of the dark red liquid inside. Hector was still staring wide-eyed around the room when Isaac offered him one of the glasses.

“That’s not…” He frowned. “Is it?”

“Chateu Lafite,” Isaac said, swirling his glass thoughtfully. “A good vintage, or so Lord Dracula told me.”

“Oh, of course. Then let’s drink in his honor.” They touched glasses, and each took a long drink. Isaac never indulged in alcohol, normally, but it was important to make the newcomer feel at ease. And Dracula had been right. The wine was flavorful and sweet.

He turned back to the slab, setting his glass aside and rolling up his sleeves, as Hector wandered among his tools and equipment.

“It must be frightening,” he mused from somewhere behind Isaac. “I raise undead soldiers at the forge, but they’re obedient to me by nature. Don’t you worry that one of those night creatures will gobble you up the moment they’re brought back to life?”

Isaac looked back over his shoulder, his arms still buried in gore up to their elbows. “I am prepared to serve my lord, even in death.” The creature on the slab twitched from an unseen gesture of his hands, its jaw opening to reveal several rows of sharp fangs, still caked with flesh from its last hunt.

“But,” he continued. “It would take more than a half dead beast to threaten me.” He withdrew his hands, took up his knife, and plunged it into the monster’s heart in one swift motion.

The creature started to life instantly, letting out an ear-piercing shriek. Flames burst from its chest as the gaping wounds Isaac had dug into moments before knitted themselves closed magically. Isaac backed away slowly as the beast rose to its feet, stretched out its long arms, and flew off out of sight, screeching until it had disappeared among the room’s distant metalworks.

Isaac turned around, and found that Hector was smiling dreamily in the monster’s direction, obviously enthralled by what he had seen. The vampires are not wrong, he thought, when they say he is _adorable_.

Hector turned his bright eyes back on Isaac, raising his glass in a small salute. “You’ve learned your craft well. It’s something to behold.”

“It’s a trifle,” Isaac said, shaking his head. “When you forge the creatures we use, they’ll be that much more impressive.”

“They still frighten me, you know.”

Isaac paused, his hand still holding up a tool he had begun to set down. “The creatures?”

“The creatures.” Isaac nodded. “In spite of myself. The vampires too, when I walk past them in the halls.” Isaac didn’t know what to make of that. It was almost laughable, but still endearing, somehow.

“Dracula’s castle is no place for frayed nerves, or a fear of the undead,” he warned. “Our lord’s guests can practically smell fear, and they’ll be searching you for weakness the moment they lay eyes on you.”

Isaac held his glass to his lips, staring over the rim and seeming to think through what Isaac had told him. “Then it will have to be our little secret, won’t it.” He winked, and took a long drink from his glass.

Isaac shook his head gravely. He knew Hector was only being playful, but since arriving at Dracula’s castle he was quickly growing tired of secrets.

A strong smell made him wrinkle his nose, and he realized with a look down that his robes were splattered with monster blood. “Excuse me,” he said softly, crossing the floor to a battered wardrobe tucked among his laboratory equipment.

He pulled away the sash at his hips, then lifted the stained robes over his head and set them aside, standing naked from the waist up. As he rifled through the wardrobe for a fresh set, he heard Hector’s footsteps on the stone floor behind him. They were cautious, wary, moving with deliberate slowness. Isaac straightened, but waited in place for the other man to approach.

With anyone else, he would have been on guard immediately. But although he couldn’t guess the man’s intention, Hector didn’t seem like the type to attempt a stealth killing, especially not on his first day in Dracula’s court.

At last, Hector stretched a hand out, carefully tracing a deep scar on Isaac’s back with his fingertip. Of course, Isaac realized, he hasn’t seen them yet.

Hector’s fingers felt cool, and soft. They brushed slowly over Isaac’s muscular back, following the crisscrossing lines of his scars up and down, like waves cresting and falling.

“It must have been painful,” he murmured.

Isaac wanted to hate Hector for the casual way he was being examined, but couldn’t help appreciating the comment. Nearly everyone who had seen his scars asked if they had been painful, _stupid_ , or asked what had happened to him, _too forward_.

“It was,” he answered simply, resisting the urge to turn or shrug off Hector’s touch. He expected him to pull his hand away, but Hector rested it on his bare shoulder instead.

“If you could go back in time and erase them, would you?” he asked.

Isaac nearly laughed with scorn, but thought the question over carefully, and began to wonder.

Of course he could heal his scars with magic any time, and pretend they had never existed, leaving only the painful memories of his childhood as evidence.

But Hector was not asking merely about the cuts and welts on his back. Would he endure that suffering again, if the choice was his? He was tempted to say no, but remembered all that his lifetime of pain and cruelty had taught him.

Would he be the same man without the scars? The disciplined and wise man Dracula had traveled the world to recruit for this great undertaking? It was a chance he would not be willing to take.

But Hector did not wait for his reply, seeming to sense Isaac’s thoughts as he pulled his hand away. “Nor would I,” he whispered. “They suit you.”

Isaac was still trying to think of something to say when Hector reached past him, pulling a clean, dark cloak from the wardrobe and draping it around his shoulders.

“Just think,” he said. Isaac leaned his chin up as Hector fastened the clasp of the robe at his neck. He nearly shivered when the other man’s knuckles brushed his bare skin. “Someday, they may be the world’s last reminder of man’s inhumanity to man.”

Isaac turned to face Hector, and found a warm smile on his face. He took up his glass of wine from a nearby countertop, and Hector did the same.

“Someday soon, let’s hope,” Isaac said, and raised his arm for a toast.

Hector stepped close to him, wrapping his glass-bearing arm around Isaac’s so they were entwined at the elbow. They lifted their glasses together, each taking a deep draught. As Isaac felt the warmth of the body beside him, he realized it had been years since he was this close to another mortal – man or woman.

There was a sweet smell too, like lilac, that he only caught a whiff of before the toast had ended. There was much about the castle’s latest guest, Isaac decided, that he would have to investigate further.

As they lowered their glasses, Hector brushed wine from his lips with the back of his hand, and something about the gesture made Isaac’s pulse quicken. He coughed, loudly, to break the sudden silence between them.

“I have something to show you now,” Hector said, resting a hand on Isaac’s sleeve. “If you’ll indulge me.”

“Where?”

“I don’t know.” Isaac cocked an eyebrow at this reply. “Really,” Hector laughed, “I don’t. I still need to get my bearings in this castle. You’ll need to show me the way back to my quarters.”

***

The greyhound was an impressive specimen, with sleek hair, fine white teeth, and a figure built for speed. Only a few welts on the dog’s left side hinted that something about it was out of the ordinary.

On its right side, where parts of the animal’s skull and flank were missing, Hector’s work was more obvious.

“I call her Bela,” he said, stroking a hand over her back and making the creature wag its tail in delight. “She was some rotten noble’s pet until he grew tired of her.”

“What did you do to the man when you found her?” Isaac asked, scratching under the dog’s chin. It closed its one good eye, panting happily and savoring the attention.

“Not in front of her,” Hector cooed, smoothing down Bela’s pointed ears. “That story makes her anxious.”

They patted the dog in silence until the noise of birds outside drew her attention. She raced over the balcony outside Hector’s forge, patrolling the walkway and growling at birds flying overhead, as if the turrets and towers of Dracula’s sprawling castle were the lawn of her old manor home.

Hector and Isaac sat in a pair of chairs drawn up beside the massive forge stone in the center of the room, watching Bela through the doorway in silence.

“You know, it feels odd…” Hector began. Isaac turned his eyes from the dog to her master, and found that Hector was smiling sweetly at him.

“What does?” he asked.

“It’s been years since I spoke to someone for so long. I couldn’t even say how many. Not even Dracula could put up with my company for as long as you have.”

Isaac let out a short laugh, shaking his head and smiling. “That’s what strikes you as odd, while you’re living in a vampire’s castle?” Hector shrugged his shoulders, still grinning but shyly now, his face turned down and his gray hair falling over his face.

“The undead are… familiar to me, even if they still give me the chills.” He glanced at Bela’s wagging tail through the doorway to the balcony. “But human companionship has always been hard to find.”

“Is that what we are?” Isaac asked, sounding surprised. “Companions?”

Less than a day, and he’s already becoming attached, he thought. That’s useful, perhaps, but not if his infatuation gets in the way of our work.

Hector turned to look at him, searching his expressionless face for clues. “Would you prefer brothers in arms? Or should we be friends?”

Friendship. That stunned Isaac. The two humans of the night court making friends with one another, before Dracula’s great cull.  It was hard to tell if Hector was a romantic, or only naïve.

He shook his head, his lips curling up slightly at the sides in a wry smile. “I have never made a friend yet, and Dracula’s court is an unlikely place to find one, wouldn’t you agree?”

Hector cocked his head and turned his eyes up, reflecting on this. At last he lifted his hands, as if to say, _I don’t know_. “War makes strange bedfellows,” he concluded.

Now there was an idea. Isaac had no doubt by now that Hector was interested in him, but the question remained if such a connection was worthwhile, here in humanity’s final days. What use would it serve? Isaac asked himself. But he had to admit the appeal was unusually strong.

Pleasure was not something Isaac sought out. Not in the paintings of Dracula’s gallery, his vampire courtesans, or even the small comforts of fine clothes and food the castle offered.

But none of these had tempted him the way Hector did.

“Curious, to say the least,” he said. He extended a tattooed hand, and gently stroked Hector’s cheek with his thumb. The other man almost recoiled in surprise, but then leaned his head back into place, shutting his eyes as Isaac trailed his fingers through his silvery hair, softly stroking the side of his face.

“But not strange,” Isaac whispered. “Not to me.”

They stayed in silence, relishing the small comfort of their touch. Hector sat with his hands folded in his lap, eyes shut, smiling dreamily as Isaac caressed him.

Isaac had only meant to comfort the man, but he was lost in the moment, feeling his heart beat faster with every second his fingers lingered on Hector’s smooth skin, under his soft hair. The touch felt enthralling, almost electric, but also reassuring in a way he could not explain.

After what might have been minutes, a bark from the balcony broke the spell. Isaac withdrew his hand and stood up at once, walking a short distance away to browse one of Hector’s bookshelves.

Now who’s getting attached, he scolded himself. Maybe he had been among the vampires for too long, and was starting to see humans as pets. He told himself that must explain the connection he felt, but knew in his heart it was not true.

The light changed throughout the room as the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting the forge in a golden hue. Isaac stepped out to the balcony, and heard Hector rise from his seat to follow him outside. Bela slunk back into the chambers as they stepped outside.

“Tell me,” Isaac said, gazing past the spires of Dracula’s castle at the distant mountain peaks, illuminated in orange and yellow by the setting sun. “Did you grow up with a family?”

“No,” Hector said softly. “Not for very long, at least.”

Isaac turned his head, seeing how the light gave Hector’s almost pallid complexion a healthy glow, emphasizing his attractive features.

“Did you start one yourself?” Hector shook his head. “Nor did I,” Isaac continued. “It strikes me that even Dracula himself took a bride. Yet neither of us made a human bond until we found ourselves in the world of night.”

He reached out, entwining the fingers of his hand with Hector’s. Hector smiled, and squeezed his fingers affectionately, but kept his eyes fixed on the sky before them.

“Dracula seems as lonely as us these days,” he mused. “But, as painful as it sounds, that might be for the best. If it means humanity’s days are finally numbered.” Isaac nodded.

The sun sank deeper as they watched together, turning the sky crimson and casting long shadows that seemed to stretch forever in the valley where the castle had come to rest.

Isaac extended his free hand, eclipsing the sun with his palm as red light shone between his outstretched fingers.

“Which do you think is worse,” he asked. “To have loved, and lost the one you loved, or to have never known love at all?”

Hector laughed, shaking his head as the last sliver of sun dipped below the mountains. “I’m the wrong man to ask.”

They watched the last rays of sunlight fade together, until stars were alight above Dracula’s castle, twinkling in the deep blue of the night sky. Afterwards, Hector sighed, letting go of Isaac’s hand and walking back into his chambers.

“That’s it then. We’ll soon be the last two loveless humans, serving a broken hearted vampire.” He trailed his hand along the cool surface of the forge stone. “Our war might as well be called the end of love.”

Isaac crept carefully through the doorway, struggling to control his nervous breathing as he stretched a hand out to rest on Hector’s hip. The other man tensed, his hands gripping the edge of the forge stone, then relaxed as he exhaled slowly, his shoulders slumping while his body leaned back, resting against Isaac’s.

He trusts me already, Isaac thought, completely.

His hand traced a slow line over Hector’s body, from his hip across his taut stomach to rest over his chest. Even through the jacket he wore, he could feel Hector’s heart pounding. Hector leaned his head back, nuzzling his cheek against Isaac’s.

“This is not the end of the human world,” Isaac whispered. He brushed a lock of hair away from Hector’s dazzling blue eyes with his free hand. “This is the beginning of the vampire world. And of a new love. Pure, eternal.” He pressed Hector’s body tightly against his. “A love that lasts through life and death.”

Hector smiled back, laying his own hand over Isaac’s. “I would settle for a night.”

They kissed, a chaste press of the lips at first, but when Hector flicked his tongue against Isaac’s mouth, he opened it greedily. He felt a long subdued passion rising in his body like a tide, and had to fight not to suppress his desire, as he had for so many long years in the desert.

Hector spun on his heels out of Isaac’s grip, leaning back against the forge stone before pulling the other man to him by the sash at his waist. Isaac cupped Hector’s head in his hands, threading his fingers through his soft hair as they kissed.  Suddenly, he clenched a hand, jerking Hector’s head backwards and drawing a low grunt.

Isaac brushed his lips along the line of Hector’s chin, pinning him against the forge stone with his hips. He left gentle kisses in a line down Hector’s neck, making him moan softly, his hands gripping Isaac’s strong arms as he writhed with pleasure.

The warmth of Hector’s skin, the softness of his hair, and the smell of his perfumed body threatened to overwhelm Isaac. He was not sure if the wine or unbridled lust had intoxicated him more, but he reveled in the heady feeling, grinding his hips against Hector’s.

Hector rested a hand on Isaac’s cheek, and his partner leaned back immediately, worried that he had changed his mind. Instead he said, “Let me,” and tugged at the end of Isaac’s sash.

He stretched his arms to the side, waiting patiently as Hector unfastened his robes. He took care to delicately untie and remove each piece, like a diligent servant, setting them aside with care on the forge stone. By the time Hector peeled off his own jacket, in the same unhurried fashion, revealing his pale, slender body, Isaac was nearly mad with anticipation. With their clothes neatly set aside, Hector turned back to him, pressing a hand to his muscular chest.

He was lithe, but with wiry muscles that hinted at martial training. There was a small patch of gray hair above his cock, and thin, silvery hairs along his pale arms and legs. His face was flushed, but his lips were curled back in a mischievous smile, and Isaac felt an overwhelming desire to take him into his arms again and never let go.

Hector knelt down without another word, sliding his hand across Isaac’s toned stomach and over his crotch, making him tremble with just a touch. He leaned in close, brushing Isaac with his soft lips, swirling his tongue around the head, and staring up at him with his bright, blue eyes all the while.

“You are cruel,” Isaac laughed, stroking hair out of Hector’s eyes. He arched his back, grunting softly as Hector slid a hand around him. “I thought I knew something of torture before now.”

Hector flashed a wicked smile, but took Isaac into his mouth at last. His hands stroked Isaac’s strong thighs, while his head rocked back and forth. Soon, Isaac had to stifle a moan of pleasure, taking hold of the forge table behind Hector to steady himself when his knees felt weak.

He knew that Hector was toying with him. He would pick up speed, swirling his tongue to make him quiver and gasp, then slowing down at once. Sometimes Hector pulled away altogether, softly stroking with his hands while kissing Isaac’s thighs, and the wait for him to begin again was agonizing.

After a few minutes of this treatment Hector looked up, and found Isaac’s eyes were shut in concentration, sweat trickling down his forehead. He replaced his lips, and guided Isaac to thrust his hips by pulling on his thighs in a steady rhythm.

Isaac caught on right away, thrusting slowly, filling Hector’s mouth before pulling out nearly to the tip. The glimmer in Hector’s eyes, and the way his hands caressed Isaac’s stomach, said this was just as he wanted, and Isaac couldn’t resist rocking his hips faster.

Hector let out a choked moan with each thrust, opening his mouth wider and rolling his tongue back and forth. Isaac realized he was panting, straining to contain himself as pleasure rippled through his body with every touch from Hector.

At last, he threaded his fingers through Hector’s long hair, clutching tightly as his body lurched forward, every muscle straining.

“Hector-” he groaned.

The room around them seemed to dissolve in the moonlight, and it was several seconds before Isaac came to his senses again, leaning against the forge table and absently combing his fingers through Hector’s hair.

“I wonder how many have seen that side of you.” Hector said, brushing his lips with the same casual gesture that had captivated Isaac earlier.

“No one has seen quite that side,” Isaac smiled, stroking his thumb across Hector’s chin. “You’re a devil Hector, not a man.” Hector seemed delighted to hear this, smiling up at Isaac with pride.

He began to stand, but fell back to his knees with a groan, reaching a hand out to steady himself.

“Are you alright?” Isaac asked, crouching quickly and taking Hector in his arms.

“Yes, it’s my knees. The stone floors,” he murmured, sounding embarrassed.

Isaac helped lift him to his feet, then scooped him up by the knees without warning, cradling Hector in his arms like a newlywed with his bride. He cried out in surprise, laughing and locking his arms around Isaac’s neck as he almost slipped out of the grip.

Striding confidently in the semidarkness of the forge, Isaac took them through a doorway to Hector’s chamber.

Here, dim moonlight streamed in from a small window, and a four corner bed with a dark red canopy waited for them. Isaac noticed a few trunks of Hector’s belongings were still piled, unopened, on the empty side of the suite.

Hector seemed to guess what he had planned, shouting “Wait, wait!” in protest as he was tossed onto the downy bed. But he broke into laughter when he landed with a bounce.

Isaac followed quickly, straddling Hector and covering his face, neck, and chest with soft kisses. Hector actually giggled with delight, playfully pushing at Isaac’s chest, and smoothing his hands over his bald head.

Isaac could tell when he found a sensitive spot, because Hector tried to curl his legs up, rocking onto his side and letting out renewed laughter.

He was caressing Hector’s bare torso, and sidling into place between his knees, when he felt the soft touch of a hand under his chin. Hector’s eyes were opened wide in surprise when he looked up.

“You’ve only just came, are you going to…take me?”

“I can,” Isaac smiled. He had no doubt about that. “Unless, that’s… not what you want?”

Hector reached down to massage Isaac’s shoulders, smiling despite the concern in his eyes. “You’re going to tire yourself out. Will you let me instead?”

Isaac shrugged, then nodded. Hector leaned in for a quick kiss, then stretched his legs out of bed and stood up. “Lie back,” he said with a wave of his hand, stepping back into his workshop, “I’ll be back shortly.”

He did as he was told, stretching out on the bed, watching the doorway eagerly for Hector’s return. When he came back, he held a lit candle and a small bottle in his hands. The candle was placed in a holder at the bedside, while Hector unfastened the bottle’s top and scooped out what looked like a salve.

Hector warmed the mixture in his palms, before spreading it over the first two fingers of his hand, and Isaac understood at once what it was for.

“Lay back,” Hector cooed, setting the bottle aside, “and relax.”

Isaac felt his body tense in spite of the warning, as Hector spread his legs, gently stroking and then probing between them with his fingers. He gritted his teeth, trying to focus on Hector’s face instead of the discomfort.

“You’re not relaxing,” Hector teased, slowly pushing his fingers deeper. “Is it too much for you?”

Isaac grimaced. “Wait until it’s your turn.” He began to laugh, but a grunt of pain cut it short as he squirmed under Hector’s touch.

“Getting better,” his partner said. And it was. Isaac felt his body unclench as Hector fell into a steady rhythm, easing his hand back and forth. “Are you ready for more?” he asked in a sultry voice, and Isaac had to fight back an urge to switch places with him.

“Yes,” he almost pleaded, “I’m ready.”

Hector retrieved his bottle from the nightstand, warming up another scoop in his hand and spreading it on himself. He edged closer to Isaac, positioning himself with care in the dim light.

Just as Hector pressed himself against Isaac, a tattooed hand reached up from the bed, pulling him down by the neck for a last sloppy kiss. When he let go, Isaac could see hunger in Hector’s eyes, as they shone in the candlelight.

He almost teased Isaac at first, rocking back and forth, letting him grow accustomed to the sensation of their bodies together.

The discomfort had returned, but Isaac gripped the sheets of Hector’s bed, and focused on his breathing. He was an expert in ignoring pain, but did not want to miss any of the pleasure mingled with it now.

As he eased in further, Hector found his rhythm, grunting and rocking his hips in time. His hands clenched Isaac’s thighs, pulling himself deeper with every thrust. He grinned from ear to ear when Isaac began grunting in pleasure at last.

Here, in the closeness of Hector’s room, as his body became slick with sweat, the smell of his lilac perfume grew stronger. Isaac drank it in, lifting his hands from the bed to trail them over Hector’s firm body, craving closeness.

Hector seemed to sense his desire, leaning down as he kept thrusting, pressing his lips to Isaac’s in a slow, sensuous kiss. Isaac wrapped his arms around Hector’s back, stroking him gently while he sucked on his tongue.

Hector pushed deeper, breathing heavily with the exertion, leaning away from Isaac as he focused on the motion of his hips. Below him, Isaac groaned, panting hot air into his face.

Hector leaned back in for a kiss, slowing as he did, but Isaac’s strong hand pressed against his chest.

“Don’t stop Hector,” he begged, “don’t stop.”

The hungry look was in Hector’s eyes again as he pecked Isaac on the lips. He drew back onto his knees, gripped Isaac’s shoulders, and pushed deep, slapping his hips against Isaac’s buttocks.

He pushed the tempo as long as he could bear, rocking his hips until he felt lightheaded, but Isaac pleaded for him to keep going. He took Hector’s hips in his strong hands, guiding him and urging him to keep up.

As sweat trickled down his forehead, Hector ground his hips from side to side, earning a satisfied groan from Isaac. He opened his mouth to say something, but Hector repeated the motion with a thrust, and Isaac lay his head back on the bed, nodding his head with another happy groan.

Soon they were both panting, rocking back and forth, urging each other on. Isaac clenched his hands tightly around Hector’s wrists.

“That’s it,” he pleaded, “that’s it, come on.”

“Don’t you stop either,” Hector purred, “give it to me now…”

The rhythm fell out as Isaac’s body began to lurch. His hands gripped the sheets beneath him as ecstasy jolted through his body. “Yes,” he murmured, “yes.”

Hector leaned over him, pressing soft kisses to Isaac’s face as he gasped and groaned through the pleasure. Then it was his turn, and he leaned away in a rush, letting his head fall back as he shuddered through the last full thrust. His hands shook as they fell back on Isaac’s thighs.

They collapsed together, with Hector nuzzling his face into Isaac’s neck and sucking in deep, slow breaths. Isaac pressed his head closer, threading his fingers through Hector’s hair as his free hand reached for a blanket they had kicked aside.

He pulled it over them, and they pressed close together, ignoring their sweat and the stuffy heat. Ignoring the rest of the world and its concerns, as they fell into a deep sleep.

***

The morning sun glowed through the small window of Hector’s chamber, but Isaac had pulled the nearest side of the bed’s canopy closed already.

He had awoken in the night, dressed, and planned to leave. After all, the vampires of Dracula’s castle held court under the stars, and they would be expecting him.

But the sight of Hector lying in bed, his silver falling over his face, had made him pause. He had been sitting for hours now, perched on one of Hector’s trunks, watching the light shift in delicate hues on his sleeping face.

Bela had taken his place in bed some time ago, and lay curled alongside her master, her exposed side rippling softly with each breath.

It could only have been one night, he told himself. Any more and it would be a romance, a real one, and that would make them targets for someone else at court. Or worse: playthings to be abused for fun, weak humans with their silly little attachments.

They would always be strongest together, but apart.

Isaac wanted to deny it, and something urged him not to let it be true. But he had meditated on the issue through the night, and knew this was the only way things could be between him and Hector.

That’s not true, he told himself. It’s the only way you’ll _let_ them be. The way to move on with your work. The way with the least chance of losing him, because already that’s something you can’t bear.

_Which do you think is worse_ , he had asked. _To have loved, and lost the one you loved, or to have never known love at all?_

He knew the answer now.

Rising to his feet, he crossed the room as slowly as he could, creeping from heel to toe to keep from waking Hector. At his bedside, he brushed the canopy away and leaned down. He pressed his lips softly against Hector’s forehead.

Then he let the curtain fall between them again.

The walk back to his workshop seemed longer than usual, as if the castle had rearranged itself, stretching his sanctuary in the lower halls as far away from Hector as it could be.

He began to think, somewhere along the way, of how his night with Hector felt like a dream, something his mind had conjured up. A magical illusion. When he reached the workshop, he had decided that was what it must have been.

Dracula’s castle can play tricks on humans, he told himself. Even the ones who should know better.

He unfastened his robe, letting it fall to the floor, and pulled his barbed whip from among a table of instruments. The familiar weight in his hands was reassuring, and he cracked it against the floor, savoring the brutal sound.

The body is impure, he told himself. The pain is clean, and simple.

Kneeling on the cold stone floor, he lashed himself, stifling a cry as blood welled along his back. He lashed himself again, and this time the sting brought peace to his troubled mind. The barbs of the whip were red, and he swung them against his skin again.

My scars might be a reminder of human cruelty, Isaac thought. But a kiss could be just as cruel.


End file.
